Liquid
by We're all living in Hetalia
Summary: (One-shot) Sending Tobirama and Madara to negotiate foreign trade? Sure. What could possibly go wrong?


**AU where Madara and Hashirama began having peace talks way earlier and Izuna survived.**

 **This is basically an attempt at humor. A failed one, but an attempt anyway. Also, quite possibly nobody is in character here for various reasons.**

 **Includes swearing, canon-typical fighting, drinking and torture (which is only mentioned in a character's fantasies, but doesn't actually take place).**

 **It doesn't include any pairings, by the way.**

 **Having said that... I hope you enjoy it? Okay. Here goes nothing.**

* * *

Hashirama waited impatiently in the hokage office for his friend (essentially co-hokage) to arrive. While normally it would be Hashirama himself and Tobirama going on peace talks and other outside business, this time around they barely had a choice. The Raikage had specifically asked for him to discuss a certain incident near their borders that could easily have escalated into a war between the two countries. Now normally he would have left Madara behind to take care of the village in his absence and take Tobirama with him, because the poker faced shinobi was a master of getting favorable deals for Konoha and the fire country in general. It would have been fine, really… had the recently formed trading village between the land of Grass and the land of Fire not decided that it wants to negotiate trade with Konoha at the exact same date. Not only that, but they also wanted to see both Hashirama and Madara as proof that the two clans were indeed on peaceful terms, not just tricking the countries around them. It was a miracle that they even agreed to having Madara and an important Senju clan member to begin with, but the fact that the important Senju clan member happened to be Tobirama…

Well, understandably, he was nervous. Those two were both ruthless people when it came to making decisions, except they were usually on the opposite side. Convincing that trading village that the relationship between the Senju and the Uchiha was amiable… would have been an outright miracle with those two, if Hashirama wanted to be honest with himself. However, he most certainly did NOT want to be honest with himself at the moment.

He had returned from the land of Wind early morning. Izuna, while headstrong like his older brother, proved to be quite intelligent and convincing, much to Hashirama's relief who found himself in a tricky situation with the Raikage who assumed that he had uterior motives. In any case, the crisis (and impending war) was averted and the two returned to Konoha with what one would call success. Now the only thing to be worried about was Tobirama and Madara.

Hashirama had received a message from the guards that Madara and Tobirama had arrived about an hour earlier and both of them were… alive. The fact that the guard phrased it that carefully made the hairs on Hashirama's neck bristle. Just what… what had gone down in the few days that he wasn't with them?

The answer came in the form of a very much disheveled Madara kicking down his door. His hair looked like a giant pincushion with several feathers and other undetectable substances caught in between, his face was covered in what may have been blood, dried mud, or the combination of the two. Also, his clothes had more holes in them than Hashirama could count during the quick assessment of his childhood friend and the glare of the Uchiha was warning enough that he better not point that out.

'So… how did it go?' Hashirama asked tentatively once the silence became uncomfortable.

Madara leveled him with a glare reserved for special occasions.

'We've deafeated our enemies in the Northwest,' the mighty Uchiha warrior announced.

A second of silence followed, then two, three, four, and Hashirama's face was slowly but steadily losing color.

'Madara… we don't have enemies in the Northeast.'

Another second of silence fell between the two of them as they locked eyes, one silently pleading for it to be a joke, the other just sick and tired of the whole thing.

'Well then… now we do.'

* * *

The negotiations went about as well as one would expect from a bunch of traders who practically lived to argue their own terms. Madarada had repeatedly felt the urge to strangle them with his bare hands, listening to their screams and cries for life. Admittedly the same kind of thoughts were the ones earning him a scolding from Hashirama most of the time for being too cruel, but hey, that moron was a naïve toddler who happened to be able to grow huge-ass forests, who was he to talk?! Especially when Madara had to face not only the nerve wrecking traders, but also Hashirama's insufferable little brother.

Though if he wanted to be honest, Tobirama was not as much of a hindrance as he expected the other to be. The younger man actually acted like they were on more or less friendly terms during their whole stay, keeping up the looks of internal peace in the face of the trader village. Kanegawa, as they named the settlement, was doing its best to drive the representatives of Konoha in a corner, but every time Madara was about to flip the damn table over and behead the fools with it, Tobirama cut in with his sharp wits and argued his point until the rich bastards across them had to reluctantly agree.

Days went by like that, with arguments flying all over the place, Kanegawa's traders demanding control of certain routes, Tobirama and Madara sticking to their own economic perspectives, and of course lots of headaches. The arguments would only stop for the night and the meal breaks, particularly dinner. Flaunting their wealth was apparently a favored strategy of theirs, because Madara and Tobirama were invited to dinners that would have easily fed half of Konoha's population for a day.

'What a waste,' Tobirama grumbled when there was no one else within hearing distance except Madara. The older man agreed, but for the sake of his dignity, preferred not to agree with the Senju outside of the trade negotiations. He had been doing that an awful lot in the past days so he was certainly not going to when he actually had a choice.

Since most of the traders were heavily drunk by then, they barely paid attention to the two and Madara sipped on his sake with a bored expression, waiting for the oh-so-lovely men across the table to finally knock themselves out, so that the two of them could leave. Once that happened, Tobirama and him excused themselves from the restaurant and left to return to the inn where their rooms were. Before entering his though, Madara stopped in the hallway.

'You barely took a sip of their sake,' he said, causing Tobirama to turn around, 'there wasn't anything in them, you know. I checked.'

The other shinobi's usual poker face shifted a little towards a grimace, though it was still a lot more elegant than what Madara had ever managed to pull off in public, another thing that he had yet to learn if he wanted to be respected as a Hokage as much as Hashirama.

'I'm not quite fond of it.'

Madara raised an eyebrow at that.

'Missing the flavors of home already?'

'No,' Tobirama replied, eyes fixed on his door rather than Madara, 'alcohol in general. I'm not exactly a drinker.'

Now there was his chance to poke fun at the perfect little brother of Hashirama for being a lightweight… except they were still on foreign soil, and another day of arguments were waiting for them, in which Madara would desperately need Tobirama's support. Suppressing a defeated sigh, he merely shrugged and said 'night' as he returned to his own room.

Tomorrow would be the day they finally put all that shit in writing. Tobirama would most likely convince them to do so. If not, Madara could always use more physical means. Say, breaking one finger at a time. He could break five and the traders would still have one full hand to write with, right?

Again, Hashirama would probably not have agreed to that plan. Any of his plans regarding those men, actually.

The following day consisted of more arguments than the past two altogether and Madara found himself worried about his teeth after gritting them so much.

'No, you have heard us yesterday,' he cut in once he had finally had enough of the blond man with unsettling purple eyes talking Tobirama's idea down, 'and you know damn well that we will not let anyone pass through our military checkpoints without seeing the contents of the caravans. Neither will we give any of you control over that base near the border, so don't you-'

'The tax discounts are negotionable though,' Tobirama added before Madara could have finished his argument with a hearty death threat. It was a rough pattern they had been keeping up since morning, but it seemed to work and by five in the afternoon, the treaty was signed by the representatives of both villages, no bones broken in the process. So far the only damaged things were Madara's nerves, but that was to be expected.

'Now, it's time to celebrate!' one of the traders announced and Madara was mildly entertained upon hearing a groan from Tobirama. It was suppressed enough that only the Uchiha could pick up on it, so it was sort of his private joke to laugh at – who would have thought that the most effective way to torture Tobirama would be a festive meal!

On the other hand, thirty seconds in he was just as annoyed by those bastards who only got exponentially more aggravating with every cup of alcoholic drink they took. Listening to their blabbering about the money they made, the women they visited or the latest luxurious piece of art they got their hands on got boring way too quickly and the clan head wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from that. Whether that involved the simple act of walking away or setting the dinner table on fire would depend on how much longer those men would annoy him.

Apparently they were more fixated on annoying Tobirama though, which was funny at first. Except when they insisted to refill his cup of sake over and over again to have him drink with them in the name of peace and good trade… well. That was starting to look ugly. Tobirama's murderous glares were a warning sign for Madara who grabbed the Senju's arm and sent what was supposed to be an apologetic smile towards the traders.

'Excuse us for a moment,' he said, and based on the looks on their faces, his 'apologetic' expression needed some serious work. Well, that was for later. At the moment he was more concerned about dragging a grumpy Senju away from people he just might murder at any moment. Truth be told, Tobirama's speed exceeded that of Madara, and the younger of the two Senju brothers could easily have finished the whole lot in there within ten seconds and still make it look like an accident.

'Calm down,' Madara told the younger male, feeling oddly uncomfortable with how they had gone from Tobirama telling him to hold his horses to the exact opposite. There was something unsettling about seeing the younger Senju losing it when he was supposed to be the most level-headed shinobi in Konoha.

'I'm as calm as ever,' came the answer accompanied by a death glare. With those red eyes, Madara occasionally wondered what Tobirama might have been like, had he been born as an Uchiha. The same thought usually caused Madara to shiver and thank whatever Gods were out there for not having given the bloody ghost of the battlefields a sharingan on top of it all. In Madara's mind that image spelled 'total annihilation'.

And well, at the moment with glaring red eyes and a murderous expression, Tobirama did look like he was about to rush back into the battlefields and slay a few dozen shinobi. Too bad they had just managed to have a trading agreement signed and Madara, annoying as those bastards were, wasn't going to let their three days of hard work go just so that Tobirama could get back at them for having him drink a little.

'Sure you're not,' Madara grumbled, feeling like the older brother he truly was, in spite of not having Izuna around. 'Take a few breaths, calm yourself, then let's get back in there and wait until they pass out. Then we leave early tomorrow morning and won't see these annoying shitheads for a long time. Deal?'

Tobirama's expression hardly changed at all during that conversation, but in the end he nodded silently and followed Madara back into the restaurant. That had to be good enough, right? Damn, being a clan head and having a little brother still didn't make him skilled enough to deal with people and Madara was tempted to tear his hair out. Then he remembered how its mere silhouette used to make his enemies wet themselves in fear and decided against it.

The evening was supposed to go like the former ones, really. But it didn't. The traders, apparently happy with the few rights they managed to get out of Konoha without being attacked were so keen on celebrating that they were not letting anyone get away on steady feet. Madara was lucky enough to be able to hold his liquor quite well, and keep munching on something to soak up the sake in his stomach was not a half bad strategy for getting through the night. In the end, while he did feel the burn of the alcohol and his own temperature rising, it was nothing he couldn't handle. Hell, he could have probably fought someone just fine.

Tobirama on the other hand seemed to have more than just a little trouble with the situation. At first it was funny to see the stoic Senju's eyes cloud over and his expression changing from the careful neutral to something more like the pout of a child, but once Madara realized just how heavily affected the other was from all the alcohol, he started to panic. That wasn't normal… someone with the usual tolerance could have gone for quite a while before reaching that stage. Tobirama was not only a lightweight, he looked like someone who had never even touched alcohol before in his whole life.

Madara made a mental note to torture Hashirama in the most painful way possible once they returned, because apparently the oaf forgot to tell him that his little brother couldn't hold a drink to save his goddamn life!

Had Madara not honed his skills regularly, his reflexes would have been too slow to catch the falling body before it was too late. As it happened, he managed to grab Tobirama's right arm and pull him back into a sitting position. One of the traders spoke up, though he was slurring so much that all Madara could make out was 'clan' and 'friends'. That must have been good, right? In any case, he had an intoxicated shinobi to deal with who apparently was so far gone that he nearly fell out of his chair. Just what had Madara done to deserve that?!

On a second though, he might have been able to list a few things, and so could have several of the villagers but he conveniently pushed that thought back into the depths of his mind. Now was not the time. Drunk Senju alert, drunk Senju!

Hashirama was going to pay for this. Never mind that it was not entirely his fault, Madara was going to blame him anyway, just watch!

He let go of Tobirama's arm, praying that the drunk idiot would stay upright at least until Madara said goodbye to one of their hosts. It was just his luck to have the grey haired senju lean sideways again and grab onto the table's silk cover, pulling it down with him. Madara's lightning fast reflexes were needed yet again, this time to steady the silk and consequently the contents of the table, including the drinks and the vast amount of seafood. Forced to let go of the fabric, Tobirama fell on the floor with a thud and Madara couldn't find it in himself to feel sympathetic when the idiot had almost completely ruined the whole table. Not that Madara would have minded if the annoying Kanegawa tradesmen didn't have anything more to drink or eat that night, but sending the whole thing to the floor sounded like a very bad choice in regards of diplomacy, even to Madara. And that was saying something.

Madara attempted to make a perfectly polite, non-threatening expression that didn't make him look like a serial killer while excusing the both of them for the rest of the night. It make him look constipated enough that their business partners actually let them go. He quickly hauled Tobirama's arm over his shoulder because dragging him by his ankle all the way to the inn would probably have made it look like the Senju and Uchiha were not that great friends at all. A shame, he would have loved to do that.

On a side note, Tobirama must have been really out of it, because not even once did he say a single thing about his dignity being hurt by his drunk ass being dragged away by Madara. Come to think of it, his drunk self was much more agreeable than the sober one. Now if only he got drunk in Konoha instead of in a foreign village, that would have been lovely…

Madara continued walking towards the inn, half-dragging Tobirama who only bothered to take every second step, occasionally stumbling over and pulled back yet again by the Uchiha.

'It's going to be a long ass walk like this,' the older of the two grumbled. It also had been a while since he had to drag someone drunk home because ever since he became clan head, most of his friends made sure that they would be able to walk home on their own, just in case Madara decided to use his flames as an incentive. Not that he would have done something like that though.

Okay fine, he just might have.

In any case, he was in the process of dragging a very drunk Senju towards the inn when said person spoke up for the first time. It was completely incomprehensible, but sounded a lot like something a three year old would say upon seeing a shiny new toy. Coming from Tobirama, it simply couldn't mean anything good and Madara felt downright terrified when he finally realized what had caused the younger man to speak up. Water. There was a river next to them, flowing through the city.

'Oh hell no!' Madara hissed and pushed Tobirama forwards a little more forcefully than strictly needed, 'no water for you. Let's get back to the inn before I lose the last goddamn piece of my patience…'

And so he proceeded to drag a- was that Tobirama pouting? Seriously? Now that was an expression he would have liked a picture of for blackmail.

Just as their luck would have it, three members of the village's military unit (which acted much like border control, police and the military altogether) came their way. Madara's mind drew a blank as of what he should have done in that situation. Those three kept coming closer and he kept mentally repeating 'fuck it all' as if it would be of any use. It wasn't.

'Oi, who are you two?' the tallest of the three shouted towards them.

'Papers out!' a shorter one with glasses commanded, and Madara made a mental calculation how long it would take to decapitate them and whether Tobirama would be able to somehow get into the river and drown in that time window. Because Hashirama most certainly would not appreciate Madara letting his little brother drown under his watch. Come to think of it, Hashirama would most likely not apprectiate him killing three of the local guards either. But hey, Hashirama couldn't get everything he wanted…!

'Representatives of Konoha,' he announced once it clicked that killing these people would also kind of take away from the success of the trade agreement they had just signed a few hours earlier. 'I'll show you the documents as proof…'

He was about to reach into his pouch to get the scroll of invitation when two things happened at once. One: the third guard, the one with a scar on his face pulled a handful of shuriken out and threw it Madara's way. Two: a huge wave of water emerged from the river's direction and pretty much washed away the three shinobi along with the weapons. Madara blinked, sharingan immediately appearing to enhance his vision, trying to process what had just happened. Behind him, he heard a soft sound, somewhere between a snicker and a childishly satisfied 'hm'. Tobirama was currently sitting in the middle of the cobblestone street and watching the three shinobi trying to pick themselves up with glee. To their right there was a small hill, which, thanks to a large amount of water, had recently turned into a mudslide. Even Madara was mildly entertained by the way they kept falling on their faces while trying to regain their balance, mostly unsuccessfully.

On the other hand though…

'Tobirama… was that you?'

The Senju didn't bother answering him, he just kept watching the guards stumbling with a soft smile on his face and the expression of a child looking at something amusing for the first time ever. Madara wasn't sure if he had ever seen anything more disturbing in his life, and he had seen quite a lot, mind you. That expression just… didn't belong on Tobirama's face, unless it was doomsday or something. Come to think of it, was it supposed to be the end of the world? If so, he would have much preferred to spend it in other company, damn it!

'Ooooooo,' he heard Tobirama's voice that sounded way too soft and mild to truly belong to that cold and calculating man, yet there he was, looking at something in the distance. It took less than a fraction of a second for Madara to decide that he didn't like that sound. Well, more precisely the fact that it could mean nothing but trouble.

The next thing he knew a jet of water flew past his head and cut down half a tree. A shinobi without a forehead protector fell out of, although he managed to land on his feet on the cobblestones, unlike the guards who were still busy getting out of the mud.

'What the hell?!' Madara yelled back above his shoulder to the man sitting behind him, 'you're drunk as hell! Just how the fuck can you mold chakra like that?!'

Okay, fine, he was actually impressed by the water jet's precision of cutting down that tree. Or for Tobirama to notice that someone had been hiding there, in spite of clearly not being fighting fit. Still, Madara had not signed up for this…!

Tobirama tilted his head to the side like a puppy unsure of why humans were making such loud sounds around him.

'Finally,' the man who was covered in dark fabric from head to toe spoke up, 'I've come to take my revenge on you, Uchiha.'

Madara growled.

'Not fucking this, not today…!' he grunted, unwilling to believe what his life had become. 'Just who the fuck are you, even?!'

'What do you mean you don't remember me?!' the man shrieked at an equal volume, causing Tobirama to make a sound of dissatisfaction that still didn't count as human speech. Also, was it just Madara or did the air get more humid all of a sudden?

'How do you expect me to know who you are if you cover yourself up like that?!' Madara shouted back, glad to be finally able to yell at someone after days of having to suppress his rage.

The unknown shinobi tore his mask down, revealing an average looking face and an odd shaped tattoo under his left eye.

'I'm Hanamori Kousuke! Your clan put mine out of business! You humiliated our clan head! He'll never get any-'

Madara didn't get to know what the Hanamori clan head didn't get any more of because a hand shaped mass of water caught the man and pretty much threw the him away. Madara was sure that he had landed way outside the trader village's territory. Probably in Grass country.

'Damn, Tobirama!' he grunted, 'he was my enemy! I wanted to beat the shit out of him myself!'

Tobirama huffed, made an expression between disbelief and entertainment, which really should not have ever appeared on his face as long as Madara was concerned, and went back into merrily folding some water into odd shapes between his hands. Said shapes included seafood, ninja weapons, Hashirama's various facial expression and one that looked suspiciously like an enraged Madara. Said shinobi watched with wide eyes and growing usease.

'What…. the… hell.'

Tobirama went on to keep making new shapes. Once he even managed to make a miniature liquid Shukaku and Madara was half impressed and half creeped out by the sudden and very unexpected display of art. It was such a surreal thing, watching Tobirama doing something as pointless as that.

Madara's brain was so busy short-circuiting that he regrettably didn't notice that the three guards had made their escape. Soon enough, however, he got to see them again, this time with the entire guard unit in tow and some shinobi who were from villages Konoha was not exactly on good terms with. Madara gulped. Well shit. Could this day get any worse? Once glance behind him at the merrily playing Tobirama ensured that yes, it indeed could. With a drunk Senju, anything could spiral even further down into hell, however hard it was to imagine just how.

'Surrender yourself', the leader of the unit commanded, 'or we will use force.'

Madara highly doubted that the unit could take him on, even with the additional help of the hostile shinobi gathered there, but then again, diplomatic routes were not supposed to end in carnage.

'We didn't come to fight,' he announced loud and clear, hands kept away from his body as a gesture of non-aggression. One of the shinobi snorted skeptically, causing a few others to start whispering. Obviously, they weren't convinced.

'You've attacked three of our own,' the man continued but was interrupted the voice coming from behind Madara.

'He 'tacked first!' Tobirama slurred, pointing his finger towards one of the guards. Madara would have appreciated the helpful sentiment, had the Senju actually pointed at the guy who attempted to turn them into a pincushion. As it happened, Tobirama couldn't tell any of the guards from the other. He was also way too drunk to be in an international conflict and Madara was never going to forgive him for getting them into such a ridiculous situation.

'He's obviously lying,' someone spoke up, and really, he shouldn't have, because Madara heard Tobirama growl behind him. Not the murderous-ghost-of-fire-country-that-will-gut-you-in-seconds growl, but more like a watered down version of it. That was still a bad sign though. From the corner of his eyes Madara saw the grey haired man stand up, though in the end he wobbled and had to grab the Uchiha's shoulder for support.

'Not… lying…!' he managed to get out and the noise coming from the whispers on the other side kept growing. Also, was it just Madara's imagination, or did Tobirama's face turn an odd shade of green all of a sudden?

'Show us your papers then,' the unit's leader demanded. Madara slowly, painfully slowly fished the scroll out of his pocket that held their invitation letter signed by the village's leader.

'Fine, here it is,' he said, with every intent to hand the scroll over to them. The last thing he expected was for Tobirama to lunge for his hand and twist said object out of it.

'What the-'

'Me,' Tobirama growled meaningfully. It would have been more convincing, had he not been on almost all fours after losing his balance.

'You can't even stand!', Madara hissed in a failed attempt at keeping his volume down.

'Don'care' was the answer get got and Tobirama, much to his credit, managed to rise to his full height again. Then he proceeded to walk over to the chief guard with the scroll in hand, occasionally wobbling, but hey, he moved forwards, that's got to count for something, right?

He stopped two inches away rom the tall, blond man who looked at him with disdain.

'If all the Senju are drunk good for nothing bastards like you, I feel sorry for the Uchiha to have allied thems-'

He never got to finish that sentence becaue his face got very closely acquainted with Tobirama's fist. So closely, that the momentum of him falling backwards knocked four other people off their feet. Madara was torn between whistling appreciatively and worrying like a responsible adult he was (ehm, should have been). But then again, he tried, he really tried being a responsible, peace-abiding adult for three whole days. Where did that get him? Right there surrounded by enemies with only a very drunk trouble magnet Tobirama on his side. That, and an insult about his clan's choices of allies, and his blood was boiling already.

'Fuck being a responsible adult, you're all SO GOING DOWN!'

* * *

Hashirama's hands only ever left his head to come back with a huge slap seconds later. What went down in that village was the biggest diplomatic mistake they had done ever since the founding of the village.

'Good heavens…' he muttered, not even bothering to look at Madara who was currently busy tearing a bunch of twigs out of his hair and seemed beyond caring.

'Blame yourself for leaving out some very important details about your brother before sending us on a mission.'

'Right…' Hashirama sighed in defeat, sinking so low in his seat that he might as well have been sitting on the floor at that point, 'I'm the one to blame.'

Madara nodded, because that was obviously true. He chucked the twigs into the bin, then finally looked at his childhood friend.

'Oh, and by the way, your brother might have a bloodline limit you didn't know of before.'

At that, Hashirama finally lowered his hands and sat up almost straight in his seat, blinking in confusion.

'What are you talking about, Madara?'

'Projectile vomiting.'

One second of silence, two, three, then Hashirama's voice rang again.

'That's not funny, Madara,' the Senju chided him, which caused Madara to grunt.

'Sure isn't when it reaches you too. You see, your beloved brother managed to mold water element chakra and something I cannot even begin to figure out into something that looks like a cross between acid and lava… and still smells like vomit, so it probably is to some extent.'

'Uh…'

'Yeah,' Madara nodded casually, as if he was merely discussing the weather or what color the office wallpaper should be. 'He practically created a new elemental nature, with all the techniques and shit. Didn't expect him to shoot that thing like bullets too, but hey, it was effective. Now if only he learned to aim better with them,' he added with a scowl as he assessed the holes in his clothing. Damn vomit-bullets, that was his favorite outfit for diplomacy. The only one he had, but let's not bother too much with the details.

'That's…' Hashirama seemed, for once in his life, unable to respond at all.

* * *

Three hours and a good amount of medical treatment later Tobirama rushed into the Hokage office.

'Brother!' he yelled once he barged in, 'what happened? I woke up in the hospital and don't remember anything past dinner!'

The worry was clear in the younger brother's voice, and Hashirama barely refrained from saying that it might have been better if Tobirama was blissfully unaware of what had gone down after the trade agreement was signed.

'Brother? Why is your face blue?'

Ah, right. He really shouldn't have dwelled on Madara's words in the presence of his brother. Hashirama schooled his features into a more presentable one before speaking up.

'Never mind. As for the events… you two happened to get into a conflict with the local guards.'

Tobirama's face turned even paler than its original shade if that was possible.

'No way… what… just what did Madara do?'

The door behind him opened, revealing Madara in fresh clothes and clean hair.

'What's with the accusatory tone? I'll have you know that it was you who started the whole thing,' the Uchiha clan head informed him before taking one of the seats in the office.

'Wha-, no, I don't… Just what do you think I did to get us into a conflict?' Tobirama asked finally, his eyes fixed on the eerily easygoing Madara.

'Well, I could point out that you washed a few guards away and created a mudslide… or that you falcon punched the chief guard and threw up on his second in command. Take your pick.'

Tobirama's eyes widened at the words spilling from Madara's mouth. No way… no way, he would never have done anything like that… right?

Hashirama let out a painful sigh before his head hit the desk. Hard. It probably caused quite a few brain cells to die.

'Tobirama… Madara… you're not allowed to go anywhere near Kanegawa or the Grass country again. Actually, you're not allowed to go ANYWHERE together again.'

Tobirama's expression was a cross between confusion and dread, while Madara's lips were slowly quirking upwards, resulting in a downright sadistic smile.

'Ouch, that hurt, Hashirama. And here I thought the two of us could take on the next negotiation with Kirigakure… You know, have a nice chat with the Raikage, a drink or two…'

' _MADARA, NO!_ '


End file.
